An Excuse to Eat Cake
by KayTeeBeth
Summary: In which Doctors Nine through Eleven come to terms with their age and the meaning behind birthdays. Now with 25% more Donna!
1. Meaning

**Author`s Note:** So it was my birthday, and I got thinking about the Doctor and his age and does he ever celebrate and I got bit by the fanfiction bug. This was originally meant to just be a oneshot, but it kind of grew. There are a few other parts to this, yet to come, but this fairly short little bit of randomness was something I just had to write. So here you are, and I hope you enjoy An Excuse to Eat Cake.

**Additional Author's Note: **So it's been pointed out to me that Rose already knows the Doctor is 900. Well, TOUGH. Huffy fanfiction writer, aka me, has decided that, for the purposes of this daft little story type thing, she DOESN'T already know. So nyah.

**Disclaimer:** I don`t own Doctor Who. If I did, my name would be plastered over the credits and I wouldn`t be writing here, scrounging for reviews. Not that I don`t like writing here...

**Meaning**

Rose was staring at him again. "What is it this time?" he asked, sounding a lot more exasperated with her than he actually was.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Oi, no need to take that tone with me, mister!" She laughed before she resumed her staring. "No, cos I was just thinking... You said you're an alien, yeah? And you also said you're, like, really old. How do you keep track, though? Cos travelling around like this, I mean, what counts as a year?"

The Doctor's face darkened. It wasn't her fault, she was still pretty new at this. She couldn't have known just how much that actually hurt, thinking about his age. Usually he kept track of it based on Gallifrey Standard Time, but since the War... well he had sort of lost track.

"Rose Tyler, I have no idea how old I am."

"Don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "Mr. 'I can feel the turn of the Earth and see all of time.' You must be able to at least tell how old you are."

It was his turn to stare at her. Why the sudden concern with his age? Well, he might as well decide something. He had definitely lost track, but he figured since he was in his ninth body, the number nine seemed like a good jumping off point. "Nine hundred years old. I'm nine hundred."

She just gazed at him incredulously. "You're joking."

He shook his head. "Nope. Dead serious. Would I ever lie to you Rose Tyler?" Yes, he would. Repeatedly. It was Rule One, though she didn't know that.

"Blimey," she boggled. "And to think, my mom's worried about forty." She paused for a moment and regarded him. "You don't look nine hundred."

"Well, I am."

"Do you ever celebrate birthdays?"

It was his turn to marvel. "What for?"

Rose shrugged. "Why not? It's a good way to mark how old you are. And a good excuse to eat cake, I suppose."

The Doctor shook his head. "Humans. Always trying to make sense out of chaos, celebrating insignificant milestones like the date of your birth. You know what? How about you show me how it's done. We can go visit your mother on her birthday and we can have a proper celebration." He winked at her. "Also I kind of want some cake now."

"Alright then." She was beaming at him. "Tell ya what though, better make it her thirty-ninth. I've got a feeling she really doesn't want you witnessing her turning forty."


	2. Beginning

**Beginning**

Rose felt a little bit forgotten as she sat in the chair, arms crossed, staring at the Doctor as he absently flitted about the console. He was tinkering again, and while she knew he never meant to ignore her, she still felt a little bit like a third wheel. Off he went, banging seemingly random places and flipping seemingly random switches. He was in his own little world while he worked on the TARDIS, moving fluidly about in a way that looked counter-intuitive to the casual observer, but seemed to make perfect sense to him.

As he worked, he sung some pop song she had never heard of. Probably because it was from a couple hundred years into her future. She never could understand their awful taste in music. Was it just going to keep degrading as time went on? She sincerely hoped not.

"And we're done-ah!" The Doctor clicked his teeth and spun around to grin at her. He always seemed a little bit happier after spending a bit of time with the TARDIS. "Well Rose Tyler, where to now?"

Rose was perfectly capable of slipping into her own little world as well, and she usually did while he worked away on the TARDIS. It gave her time to think. And thinking she had been. "Doctor, remember how you told me you're nine hundred? Well, we've been travelling together long enough and I think that maybe it's time you celebrated a birthday."

He scowled a bit. It certainly hadn't been the answer he was looking for. "I'll ask you again, _why_? I don't really like to think about my age. I'm having something of a mid-life crisis you know."

"Well, no, I mean I was wondering, since you... ya know, changed and all that. How does that affect it? Do you start at the beginning now and work your way back up?"

"No, still nine hundred." He looked her up and down. "You just want cake, don't you?"

Rose bit her lip and looked away. "Maybe a little... But no, I think we should decide on a proper birthday for you! It would certainly make it easier to keep track. Besides, I've got you a little present." She blushed a little bit.

The Doctor's eyes widened. He remembered from Jackie's birthday the human tradition of gift-giving, but he had never really seen much store in it himself. "Whatever did you do that for? You being here is enough for me."

"Just shut up and take it, you skinny, geeky alien."

He gave her a look of mock-hurt, but took the small box from her anyway. He tore off the wrapping paper, trying not to seem too eager, and revealed a book. It was black and leather-bound and there was no title on the front. He doubted she could find a book in the universe he hadn't read yet, but when he opened it up he found it to be a photo album. Flipping through it, he smiled fondly at photos from all their adventures. There were snapshots of his last life, scenic shots, reluctant pictures with Mickey, Christmas at the Powell Estate and many, many pictures of him and Rose together.

"It's not much," Rose mumbled.

"It's perfect," he assured her, taking her hand in his. "Now, come on, let's go get that cake. I know this planet, special baking planet. Makes the best cake in the universe."

"Sounds good!"

"Rose Tyler, you and I are officially celebrating my nine hundred and first birthday!"


	3. Connection

**Author's Note: **I`m on the fence... I considered including another Rose chapter, one that details his 901st birthday with her. Or I could just tack it onto the end of the last chapter. But I'm not sure. I don't really know if we need it. I might do it, might not. Feel free to let me know what you think. ALSO I'm sort of making it up how long it is for the Doctor between birthdays. In Voyage of the Damned he says he's 903, and in End of Time he says 906. Obviously he has adventures that we don't see, but I really am making up the amount of adventures we've seen that counts as a proper year for him. If there's any evidence contradicting what I've written... Well. Huffy fanfic writer and all that. Did he ever tell Martha how old he was? Well, meh.

**Connection**

The Doctor hadn't been treating Martha Jones very fairly at all. He knew how unfair he was being to her, but that hadn't stopped him. She wasn't Rose... at first that was just a disappointing fact. But as he continued to travel with her, he realized that no, she wasn't Rose - she was Martha and that was fine too. He didn't have Rose anymore, but now he had Martha and perhaps he should stop taking that for granted.

And she was doing a wonderful job. She was brilliant. It had taken him too long to realize that she was Martha, instead of just Not-Rose. He certainly hadn't been treating her like Martha instead of Not-Rose. Martha Jones, trainee M.D. was going to be a phenomenal doctor one day; she had done a fantastic job of caring for him so far. She had watched him while he was human and at his most vulnerable, and now she was supporting him while they were trapped in 1969. Surely it wouldn't be for too much longer, but she had gritted her teeth and got a job in a shop just to support them in the tiny little flat they were sharing. It was cozy, to be sure, but they were getting by.

He felt like maybe he had been asking too much of her lately, though. Sure, he was taking her on a whirlwind tour of the universe, but he had been doing a whole lot more taking than giving these days, and he wanted to make it up to her.

It was coming up on his birthday. Since that first birthday he celebrated with Rose, he had been using his almighty Time Lord senses to keep track of the days. He no longer had Gallifrey, so he decided on using Earth as his standard time, and begun measuring the years from there. Trouble was, birthdays reminded him of Rose. There seemed to be too much that reminded him of Rose these days, but she had taken birthdays and quickly made it "their thing." It wasn't fair that she could have taken something he had previously considered inconsequential and given it such meaning. Still, he had skipped out on last year all the same.

But now, in his own personal timeline, his birthday was once again fast approaching, and he felt ready to share it with Martha Jones. She would probably have no idea just how much this meant to him, but he really wanted to just sit down with her and have a bit of cake.

When the day arrived, the door to the flat swung open at 5:23 P.M. as it did every Monday through Friday. The Doctor sat in the front room, ready to greet her. "Martha, it's my birthday today."

"Great, thanks for the notice. I suppose you want me to go out and get you something now, is that it?" He hadn't expected such an irritable reaction, and it must have shown on his face because Martha's own expression softened when she caught a glimpse of him. "No, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's been a rough day. I... Don't have anything to give you though, sorry."

The Doctor waved her off. "I don't want anything. Really, I don't. But I thought we might go out and just, I donno, buy a little cake?"

She smiled at him. "That would be lovely. Just give me a few minutes to change and we can head out."

Complicated emotions were tugging at his hearts. On the one hand he was very excited to have someone to share this with once more. Also, cake. On the other hand... No, he had to stop thinking about Rose. This wasn't about her anymore. While he still missed her terribly, he had Martha now. This was about her, and he wasn't going to let his friendship with her be sullied by the memory of Rose any longer.

"Let's go then!" Martha came out of her room having changed out of her shop uniform. The Doctor grinned at her and she returned the smile. "So how old are you today?"

"Nine hundred and three."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Really."

She stared at him, her hand resting on the doorknob. "You're... so _old_."

The Doctor sighed. "Please don't remind me. Can't we just go? Cake!"

So the two walked out and went to a little bakery. Taking their freshly bought cake, they sat down in a little park and indulged. "I'm not buying you nine hundred and three birthday candles," Martha had insisted, and the Doctor agreed that no, nine hundred odd candles would probably not be the best idea anyway. Instead they settled on three candles.

He wasn't sure how she had managed it but somehow Martha had gotten him a gift after all. "No, I really don't want anything!" he had protested. "You've done more than enough for me. I don't think I've even said thank you."

"Yes, you have, repeatedly. Now shut up and just take it, it's not much anyway."

It was a tie, just a simple one from the shop that she worked at, but he beamed at her anyway. "It's perfect." The Doctor took of the one he was wearing and shoved it into his pocket. He put the new tie on and gave Martha a thumbs up.

She laughed a bit. "Well, thanks, but like I said, it's not much. I had bought it for you anyway, 'cause you said you could use a new tie, but I figured what better time to give it to you than now."

"Don't worry about it. I mean it. It's perfect."

The pair of them sat in the park, chatting away chummily. She was a proper companion, and this was the friendship she deserved from him. They sat and talked and ate their cake. And it may not have been the best cake in the universe, but it tasted all the better because he had someone to share it with.


	4. Celebration

**Celebration**

Donna rolled out of bed. It felt like she hadn't been sleeping for five minutes, but there was an awful screeching sound coming from the console room. An awful screeching punctuated by crashes and bangs and all manner of cacophony. She swore that if it wasn't caused by some life or death situation, she was going to make one for the Doctor. The nerve of him, making a racket like that while she was trying to get her beauty sleep.

She trudged into the console room wearing her housecoat and a very sour expression. When she saw what the Doctor had done to the place, she had to stop and do a double take.

It looked as though a fleet of clowns had exploded in there.

He hadn't noticed her come in yet; he was too busy flouncing about the room, tossing stuff about. When he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, he whirled around and shot her the largest, daftest grin she had ever seen. "Donna!" he chirped with a little bit too much enthusiasm. "Guess what?" He didn't give her an opportunity to speak, but if she had to hazard a guess she would have called him completely mad. "It's my birthday!"

Oh.

She supposed that the vandalism she found herself facing was probably what he considered "decorating," in the very loosest sense of the word. The large coral struts had bits of inconsistent streamers hanging off of them haphazardly. The console itself was barely recognizable underneath piles of confetti and balloons were tied to the sturdiest looking bits. The ceiling of the place seemed blanketed by balloons. (Where the hell had he gotten the helium?) Various alien looking decals decked the walls, stuck on with no real rhyme or reason. On the chair next to the console was a lump of what appeared to be pastry with a few candles sticking out at funny angles. She assumed that to be his birthday cake. The screeching noise must have been "music." Donna blinked at the place, bewildered and bemused.

Where the hell had he learned how to throw a party?

"Isn't it brilliant?" If the Doctor grinned any wider, Donna was sure his face would break. She had seen him pleased with himself before, but the pride emanating off him now had to be some kind of a new record. "I've never had a proper birthday party before."

That explained a lot actually.

Donna heaved a great big sigh. The Doctor could be such a Space Man sometimes. He had such a boyish enthusiasm about this whole thing, even if his execution left a lot to be desired. It was all very geeky and just a little bit adorable. For all that darkness and cleverness and arrogance, he was really just a big kid, bubbling with a _joie de vivre_ that was unmatched by anything she had ever seen before.

She couldn't bring herself to poop on his party, even if it was, perhaps, the most ridiculous thing she had ever seem. Donna couldn't help but wonder what sort of activities he had planned, and whether or not she should be scared.

"Just the two of us, Doctor? Usually birthday parties are big fancy affairs, celebrated with lots of friends."

The Doctor blinked at her, baffled. "Whyever would I need anyone else? I've got my best friend here, what more do I need?"

"Don't you go getting sappy on me, Doctor. Best friend indeed." She did consider that perhaps rounding up his old mates would be a mite painful, and decided to just drop the issue in favour of just shutting up and enjoying herself.

"Oh come on, it's true!" the Doctor insisted. "I've never had a friend quite like you. You've got that great big golden heart, that clever little brain of yours, and just enough lip to keep me in line."

"Oi!"

"See, just like that," he said, nodding vigorously. "Now, stand still. Cos I'm gonna hug you. It's tradition that the birthday boy gets a great big hug from his best mate."

"You're making that up!" Donna's protests were muffled by the Doctor's suit because he had indeed scooped her up in a rough bear hug. "Besides, if you wanna talk tradition," she huffed, after being released, "a little bit of notice for your party guests would be nice. It's usually the guests surprising the birthday boy instead of the other way around."

The Doctor furrowed his brow. "That can't be right."

"Well how else are we supposed to know that we've gotta buy you presents, you big dumbo! Also, I'm hardly dressed for the occasion."

"I think you look lovely."

Donna glared at him. "I'm going to go change, and then I'll see if maybe I can salvage this trainwreck you want to call a party and try to throw together something half decent."

The Doctor's face fell. "What's wrong with this?"

Maybe she would poop on his party a little. "Sorry Doctor, but almost everything. But don't you worry your pretty little head. Well, it's not that pretty. Well, maybe a little... But don't you worry! You'll have a proper party yet, mister!"

He grinned after her. "I can't wait."

Donna turned on her heel and began to trek back to her room. She paused a moment and decided to call back "And maybe we can get you a proper cake. That one looks like something of a lost cause."

The Doctor sighed, disappointed. "I really thought I'd got that one right," he muttered to himself, since Donna had long since gone. "I figured thirty-seventh time's the charm..."

He had tried, he really did, but Donna was right. He honestly did have no idea how to throw a proper party. Still, what did it matter, in the end? Even if it wasn't a proper Earth birthday party with the proper decorations and the proper cake and the proper invitation protocols, it was still likely going to be his best birthday ever. Because now he was starting to get the hang of this, and the feeling of actually marking another year was growing on him. Humans had really hit the nail on the head with anniversaries. Celebrating the same thing, year after year? Brilliant! Something to look forward to for the other three hundred and sixty four days.

Maybe birthdays had started out painful, sparking memories of Rose... He had moved past that, though, and decided to forge ahead to create new memories. Why make a happy anniversary into a sad one? Nine hundred and four was going to be the best because even if he didn't have a proper party, he at least had a proper mate.


End file.
